


One Drink

by OceanMelon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nightclub, Alternate Universe - No Ice Skating, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, First Meeting, M/M, i mean maybe, it's not really clear what viktor does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanMelon/pseuds/OceanMelon
Summary: A face of innocence, a face Viktor suddenly, overwhelmingly wanted to protect. To protect from sleazebags who would throw their arm around them in a club and demand to be their boyfriend.The hypocrisy twisted in Viktor’s gut like a fever but, just as he had resolved to protect this person, this beautiful stranger, and take his arm back -- to face the wrath of a horny teenager alone -- the stranger gave a tiny smile, nodded and touched his hand to Viktor’s. And, well, who was Viktor to deny this creature anything he wanted?It's the classic 'there's a creep who keeps trying to dance with me, quick pretend to be my lover' situation that sometimes presents itself in nightclubs. It should have been ten seconds of glaring at some slimy handed bastard and awkward small talk. Instead, it was a stranger whose body weaved symphonies from the bass and the synth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you prefer to read on tumblr, this fic is [here](http://whereimnotme.tumblr.com/post/157050648866/just-a-short-ish-viktuuri-first-meeting-au-based)

The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cheap alcohol and dry ice. It was hot and wet and stuck in Viktor’s throat as he threw his head back and breathed it in as deep as it would go into his lungs. The music was so loud, he could hardly hear it, just a dull thud of bass and the shocking intrusion of synth. It had surpassed the level his ears would allow and they’d blocked it out. Everything felt so far away as he gulped down the rancid air and lost himself, let himself forget everything from his way back to the hotel to his own name. Nothing existed just then except that distant thrum of music and the way his hips translated it into movement.

Nothing else in the world. Just bass and synth and the flash of strobe lights as his body pulsated in sync with the crowd. Except there was that feeling again. Something hot and wet on his waist. A hand.

Viktor turned just as the lights nose dived into another round of epileptic flashing, everything scoldingly white -- harsh and colourless -- and then blinking into nonexistence in the dark. A man stood behind him, looked down at where his hand still rested on Viktor’s hip, and then gave him a wink.

Viktor shook his head with a tight smile, not bothering with words in the chaotic swirl of dance music, and gently pried the man’s fingers from where they sat before turning away again.

Chris raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Why didn’t you take the offer?’ his expression might have meant. Or, just as likely, ‘Are you alright?’

Viktor didn’t know which it was but he smiled and nodded all the same, letting himself fall back into the bass-induced trance, chucking his head back again to breath in that classic nightclub smell.

The hand again. Slivering up his side and down again like seaweed around a drowning man’s legs.

He whirled around. Not bothering to fake a smile this time, he just slapped the man’s hand away and shouted the word, “No,” in his face.

And what a face. This wasn’t a man. He was barely a boy. Sixteen at the oldest. How on earth did he get in? What was the bouncer doing at the door?

The boy raised his eyebrows, hands up placatingly, his expression clearly reading, ‘What? I didn’t do anything wrong.’

Viktor took a deep breath, tasting the sweat and sweet alcohol in the air with none of his previous pleasure, and let it out again. This was exactly how fights got started and he had absolutely no intention of being punched or punching anyone. He just wanted to dance. Just for a little while, to be in a place where no one recognised him and lose himself in something entirely unchoreographed but still so synchronised it had to prove that humans were made to dance, it was ingrained in their DNA. So, instead, he allowed himself ten full seconds to glare at the kid before turning away again with a sigh.

When the hand was back not even three seconds later, he didn’t even bother turning around again. He just reached over to the person beside him and wrapped on arm around their shoulders. The man instantly went stiff in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he shouted in the stranger’s ear. “Just for ten seconds, I’m your boyfriend.”

And, god, it felt so hypocritical -- foisting himself on this stranger to escape having a stranger foisted upon him -- but that was how things were done. It was the easiest escape. Dirty and manipulative as Viktor might have felt using the tactic, he knew he wasn’t willing to waste another iota of effort on getting rid of such a brat.

But then the stranger turned around, shoulders hunched to protect himself from the world, and Viktor wanted to take it all back.

_Not ten seconds, I’ll give you my life. Let me be your boyfriend for life. No, marry me. Marry me right this second._

The strobe lights swam in bright, round eyes. The stranger’s hair was pushed back -- held there with product or sweat, Viktor neither knew nor cared -- and his mouth had formed into a small O of surprise. A face of innocence, a face Viktor suddenly, overwhelmingly wanted to protect. To protect from sleazebags who would throw their arm around them in a club and demand to be their boyfriend.

The realisation twisted in Viktor’s gut like a fever but, just as he had resolved to protect this person, this beautiful stranger, and take his arm back -- to face the wrath of a horny teenager alone -- the stranger gave a tiny smile, nodded and touched his hand to Viktor’s. And, well, who was Viktor to deny this creature anything he wanted?

He felt the man begin to move against him, hips rocking shyly side to side, knocking against his. The man was swimming  in the sea of sharp beats and electronica, face gazing up at Viktor.

‘Is this okay? Am I doing this right?’ the face seemed to say, fingertips brushing the back of Viktor’s hand that was still over his shoulder with every move.

Viktor’s response was to grin so hard he thought his face might split in two, reach out to turn feather touches into interlaced fingers, and begin his own rocking.

He glanced at Chris again who was making a wholly impressed face. Viktor just shook his head again and mouthed the words, “Is he still there?” with a subtle nudge of his chin over his shoulder.

A moment later, Chris nodded in reply with an unreadable expression on his face (was it reassurance or regret?). Viktor felt a guilty sense of relief. As long as that kid was still there, he had an excuse to hold this stranger in his arms.

He bent towards him, watched as the thin sheen of sweat along his neck was highlighted in the latest sweep of the lights, felt the heat rise from the skin, saw the stranger’s panting breath in the frantic bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

“I’m Viktor, by the way,” he shouted above the sound of the music.

The man startled, probably not expecting Viktor to have been so close, and jumped back a little. Viktor let his fingers loosen around the man’s, just in case he’d come to his senses and wanted no more of this act.

“Yuuri,” the stranger eventually shouted back. Viktor pretended he hadn’t heard just so he could hear the other man’s voice again.

He felt Yuuri’s hip bump up against his side again. He seemed to be relaxing now. The taut, rabbit-like nervousness he’d had at first was melting away, replaced on his face by a vacant look and embodied in his dance by a sort of freedom Viktor could only envy. As the nervousness died down, Yuuri’s hips swayed further, pushing the extremes of human flexibility, and began shifting between the simple side-to-side rocking they’d done at the beginning, to something entirely more fluid, to something entirely three dimensional. They pulled left and right, forward, backward, up and down. They perfectly found the beat of the music, drew it out like silk, twisted it, made it their own and then amplified it, shouting it out for all the world to hear. The dance spread. First to his chest that rolled in a sensuous circle exactly when the music demanded. Then to his shoulders that bopped and dived to offset any imbalance in the rest of his torso. His free arm coiled around him, drawing Viktor and a dozen others in, pulling them closer and closer until they never wanted to leave. His feet tapped and then stepped and then stomped a lively march and, all the while, Yuuri’s face remained entirely impassive -- entirely peaceful as if he had absolutely no idea just what sort of sinful magic he was weaving.

Viktor caught himself standing stock still in comparison, jaw dropped in awe, and tore his eyes back to Chris.

“Still there,” Chris mouthed and Viktor had to consciously reign in his glee.

This still wasn’t fair to Yuuri, he reminded himself. But… just for the moment… And he didn’t seem to want to move away. Viktor didn’t think that was just his wishful thinking. So, against the screaming of his moral conscience, he leant forward again to shout in the stranger’s ear.

“Do you mind?” he shouted, gesturing towards Yuuri’s waist with both hands.

The peaceful mask slipped off Yuuri’s face, smashed against the floor,  and he stopped moving altogether. His face twisted into one of confusion, just hinting at a fear that lay below the surface. Some war waged within in. Viktor suspected it was the ancient one of ‘what I want’ and ‘what is expected of me’. Perhaps Yuuri did want to move away and Viktor was being the horny teenager with seaweed hands.

Viktor let his hands drop back to his own sides just as Chris leaned across and shouted, “He’s gone now,” in his ear.

It was a sigh of relief and also a sigh of disappointment that slipped from his throat but he leaned down again to shout at Yuuri one last time.

“I’m sorry about all that,” he said. “I’m alright now. Thank you.” And then he turned away from Yuuri, perhaps the most intriguing creature he had met for some time, and returned to the sea of bass, closing his eyes and forcing himself to lose everything in the music again. Those shining, dark eyes, that sweat slicked hair, that body that chewed up the music and spat it out better than before. He’d forget it all. Wash it away in the smell of beer, dance music and the air humid with the breath of a hundred strangers.

When Yuuri left with his group of friends only minutes later, Viktor pretended he didn’t notice -- didn’t feel that sting and the cold of the empty dancefloor beside him. He just chucked his head back again, let the music caress his throat, and breathed in the smell of sweat, cheap alcohol and dry ice.

That was how he would forget. That was how he always forgot.

**Author's Note:**

> Formatting's a bit different than my usual because I finished editing it in tumblr and then copied it straight from there... and I'm too lazy to go through and fix it all... Hopefully there are italics where there are meant to be italics and paragraphs where there are meant to be paragraphs. Sorry, if there aren't...
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. Feel free to come yell at me on [tumblr!](http://whereimnotme.tumblr.com/) It's like 99.9% me still working my way through my obsession with this show ;) Or maybe on my writing blog [here](https://thecowardlycreative.tumblr.com/).
> 
> And, don’t forget, if you like what I do you can always [buy me a kofi?](https://ko-fi.com/U7U2GBKM)
> 
> [edit 11.02.2017: So, I posted this, went to bed, and when I woke up this had over a thousand hits and I'm just kind of sitting here like, "...what? What just happened?" Like, obviously thank you but... how? Is it just one really enthusiastic person constantly refreshing the page? In a minute it'll sink in and I'll probably explode. Thank you, really, so much. Thank you. Also, a couple of people have asked me if there's a continuation and there have been a few subscriptions and I should probably tell you, 'no'. This was just something I smashed out because the new semester starts on Monday and then I'll have to get used to writing original fiction again. So, take from this what you will, interpret the ending however you like, and if anyone ever wants to pick up where I left it, **go for it!** Just, link it to me either here or on tumblr. I would love to read it :) Thanks again!]


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